Trembling.

Wen Yicong almost thought she had misheard.

Frozen for several seconds, she finally found her voice, replying with caution and hesitation: "Mr. Mo, for such a formal social occasion, I think it might be more appropriate for your girlfriend to accompany you."

Mo Shaoshang said, "I don't have a girlfriend."

This answer surprised Wen Yicong again. She instinctively looked up at the man opposite—with such outstanding looks, prominent family background, and extraordinary abilities, even if he wasn't thirty, he should be at least twenty-seven, twenty-eight, or twenty-nine... and he was still single?

He must be a complete workaholic, busy with work every day, unable to spare even a little time for romance.

Wen Yicong pondered silently and continued, "But given your social status and conditions, finding a suitable dinner companion shouldn't be difficult."

She said this sincerely, not as flattery.

Mo Shaoshang's expression remained calm and unruffled as he replied, "I don't like crowds and am not good at socializing. I don't have many friends I can ask for help, which is why I'm making this presumptuous request to Teacher Wen."

Well, how to put it.

These words sounded natural and honest, so they were quite credible. After hearing this, Wen Yicong pursed her lips and said thoughtfully, "I see."

She lowered her eyes, seriously weighing the matter in her mind. Her thick eyelashes fluttered like two small fans as she thought.

Mo Shaoshang remained still, taking in every subtle change in the girl's expression without speaking or urging.

After a moment, his gaze fell on the teacup in his hand, and his tone was light, revealing no emotion, yet carrying a kind of almost considerate concession: "This request is indeed presumptuous. I don't mean to put Teacher Wen in a difficult position. If you find it inconvenient or are unwilling, there's no need to force yourself."

"..." Wen Yicong was even more troubled now.

She was naturally soft-hearted and easily swayed. If this person had been tough and put on the airs of an employer, she might have hardened her heart and refused.

But he was so polite, frankly admitting he wasn't good at socializing and had no friends, not only laying his predicament before her but also leaving the choice entirely in her hands.

The words of refusal rolled to the tip of her tongue, tangled in hesitation, and she could no longer say them smoothly.

Wen Yicong's heart was in turmoil.

On one hand, she felt this was beyond her work scope; on the other hand, she couldn't help thinking that with his status and wealth, if he really had no better option, why would he have to "draft" her, his rehabilitation therapist?

Mo Shaoshang was, after all, her employer, equivalent to her boss. If the boss lowered his posture to ask for a favor, she could refuse, but it would probably make future interactions awkward.

And...

Stepping back, accompanying him to a dinner party for a few hours didn't seem like an impossible task?

She could just treat it as broadening her horizons and gaining experience.

Thus, after a fierce mental struggle, Wen Yicong finally gritted her teeth, made up her mind, and looked up at Mo Shaoshang. "I can do it. But..."

She paused, her expression becoming serious and solemn, repeatedly reminding and confirming: "Mr. Mo, I must make it clear in advance: I'm just an ordinary special education teacher. I know nothing about business matters, and socializing is completely beyond my knowledge. Accompanying you, I might not be able to help at all, and I might even cause trouble due to my ignorance of the rules. Are you sure you want to invite me?"

Hearing this, the corner of Mo Shaoshang's mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. "Teacher Wen being willing to be my companion is already my greatest honor."

Wen Yicong's cheeks felt warm. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright. As long as you don't mind, I can."

*

After leaving the tea room, Lin Ke, who had been waiting outside, came up to her. "Teacher Wen, please follow me."

Wen Yicong was a little puzzled but didn't ask questions. She silently followed Lin Ke through the corridor into an elegantly decorated reception room.

A lady was already waiting inside.

She was a foreign beauty, about thirty years old, wearing a well-tailored dark green cheongsam that perfectly outlined her graceful figure. Her blonde hair was soft and neat, casually coiled into a bun at the back of her head. Her features were three-dimensional and delicate, with an outstanding temperament.

Lin Ke gave a subtle signal.

The next second, the foreign lady in the cheongsam stepped forward with a smile. Holding a soft measuring tape, she said to Wen Yicong in slightly accented but fluent Chinese: "Miss Wen, please stand still. I need to take your measurements."

Then, with practiced movements, the beauty measured Wen Yicong's shoulder width, bust, waist, hips, and so on.

Wen Yicong passively cooperated, unable to help turning to Lin Ke beside her and whispering, "Assistant Lin, what is this for?"

Lin Ke smiled slightly. "Teacher Wen, don't be nervous. This is Miss Linda, the designer hired by Mr. Mo. The Dinner Party requires formal attire, and Linda will customize your outfit based on your measurements."

"Customize?"

Wen Yicong became even more suspicious. "Isn't the dinner party in just three days? Starting to make the dress now—how can it possibly be ready in time?"

Hearing her doubt, the designer, who was measuring her leg length, chuckled and took over the conversation, her tone confident and playful: "Beautiful miss, you just need to tell me your preferences and ideas for the dress. As for how to complete the task within the limited time, that's my concern. You don't need to worry."

The foreign beauty was lively and approachable, which made Wen Yicong relax a little. She curved her lips and said, "I don't have any special requirements. Just make it appropriate."

Linda's beautiful blue eyes flickered with surprise, and her expression was slightly exaggerated: "Oh. Such a beautiful lady has no requirements for her own dress? That's really rare." She looked Wen Yicong up and down, her gaze full of admiration. "Your bone structure and proportions are excellent. You're a natural clothes hanger."

Wen Yicong felt a little embarrassed by the praise. Her cheeks warmed, and she said softly, "Just follow Mr. Mo's opinion on the color and style."

Wen Yicong thought: After all, she was only a temporary companion, so her attire should naturally match the employer's requirements.

Linda gave a mysterious smile. "Alright, I understand."

*

Over the next three days, Wen Yicong devoted all her energy to Airi, almost forgetting about accompanying Mo Shaoshang to the Dinner Party.

Until the afternoon of the third day, a dress was presented before her.

It was a modified cheongsam-style gown, pure white, made of heavy silk satin with a soft, lustrous sheen like flowing moonlight. The tailoring was exquisite, form-fitting and three-dimensional, with smooth lines that perfectly followed ergonomics.

The upper part of the cheongsam was embroidered with a crane motif: two cranes in graceful postures—one stretching its neck toward the sky, the other bowing its head to forage. Their feathers were distinct, their eyes vivid, as if they would take flight from the fabric at any moment. The embroidery was incredibly fine, using Shu embroidery techniques, each stitch a masterpiece of craftsmanship.

In just three days, designer Linda had managed to create such a delicate, beautiful, and artistic Shu-embroidered cheongsam.

It was clear how much manpower and resources had been invested.

What kind of power, background, wealth, and status could accomplish such a miracle?

Wen Yicong was stunned by the dress's brilliance. It took her a moment to come back to her senses. She turned her gaze to the man sitting on the sofa, impeccably dressed in a suit, with a noble and languid demeanor, and said sincerely, "The designers have put a lot of effort into this."

Mo Shaoshang sat casually, one arm resting on the sofa armrest. At her words, the corner of his mouth lifted faintly. "I'm glad Teacher Wen likes it."

Just then, Lin Ke walked in, followed by several fashionably dressed young men and women.

Lin Ke said respectfully, "Sir, the styling team has arrived."

Mo Shaoshang nodded slightly.

Then, before Wen Yicong could react, she was surrounded by the group and led into a room.

Inside the room, the stylists had clear divisions of labor, working efficiently and methodically.

Some were responsible for cleansing and moisturizing Wen Yicong's skin, some for applying her makeup, and others took out curling irons and diffusers to style her thick, black curly hair. The whole process was efficient, professional, and lively.

Outside the room, the world was silent.

Mo Shaoshang maintained his original posture, occasionally lowering his eyes to check emails on his phone, but otherwise sitting quietly, as if he had infinite patience.

Time passed silently. The sun outside the window gradually set, and the sky was dyed with large patches of enchanting rose-colored sunset clouds, like an overturned palette, magnificent and brilliant.

About three hours later, there was a soft click.

The room door was gently opened.

At almost the same moment, Mo Shaoshang turned off his phone screen and lifted his eyes.

A graceful figure came into view in his blue-black pupils.

The Chinese girl wore the moon-white crane cheongsam, the form-fitting satin fabric accentuating every curve. Her waist was so slender it seemed one could encircle it with a hand, while the curve of her hips was round and full, creating an enticing waist-to-hip ratio. The cheongsam's hem was slit, revealing glimpses of her fair, well-proportioned long legs as she moved—slim but not bony, every inch of skin exuding a plump, lustrous softness.

Looking up at her face.

A few slightly curled strands of hair fell by her ears and neck, making her long, swan-like neck appear even whiter. Her face was delicately made up, with brows like paintings and lips like cherry blossoms. She seemed like a beauty stepping out of an old Republic-era painting—charming, radiant, incomparably lovely, full of allure.

Mo Shaoshang's gaze was fixed on Wen Yicong, unwavering for a long time.

Over there.

Sensing his stare, Wen Yicong's face involuntarily grew hot. She lowered her lashes, not daring to meet his eyes, feeling as if she didn't know where to put her hands or feet.

Silence spread through the air.

After a moment, Mo Shaoshang finally spoke. His tone was still calm, but his voice carried a hint of huskiness: "Sei molto bella."

—You are very beautiful.

Wen Yicong was momentarily stunned.

This wasn't the first time she had heard Mo Shaoshang speak Italian, but her previous memories were far less vivid than this moment.

Italian was supposed to be passionate and unrestrained, but this man's voice was naturally low and deep. Filtered through his vocal cords, the words took on a layer of coldness, like a forest shrouded in thick fog.

Somehow dangerous.

Wen Yicong's heartbeat quickened. The blush on her cheeks spread to her ears and neck. She could only lower her eyes and reply politely, "Thank you for your compliment."

Then, there were a few seconds of silence in the space.

Soon, Lin Ke brought over an antique-style purple sandalwood gift box and opened the lid in front of her.

Wen Yicong's gaze instinctively fell on it.

Inside, on a black velvet cushion, lay a necklace.

A jadeite necklace.

The beads were full and round, with a rich, dripping green color, translucent and lustrous. It was an excellent imperial green jadeite, emitting a warm, restrained yet captivating light under the lamp.

Wen Yicong blinked, puzzled. She was about to ask Lin Ke something when Mo Shaoshang stood up first.

The man's eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses lowered. His slender, well-defined fingers held each end of the necklace, and he walked unhurriedly to stand behind Wen Yicong.

In an instant, his masculine scent invaded all her senses. It was cool, clean, yet its presence was overwhelmingly strong, like an invisible net that enveloped her from head to toe, leaving her no escape.

Her heartbeat gradually lost its rhythm, becoming rapid and flustered.

Wen Yicong was dazed, confused and panicked, until the cool jadeite beads touched her neck. She suddenly snapped back to reality and stammered a refusal: "Mr. Mo, what are you doing? This necklace is too precious. I can't wear it..."

Actually, it wasn't that she couldn't. She didn't dare.

Such a priceless piece of jewelry—how could she dare to wear it casually?

If it got damaged accidentally, ten of her wouldn't be able to afford it...

Then, Mo Shaoshang's voice came from behind and above her, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather.

"This is a gift for you."

"For me?" Wen Yicong was dumbfounded. "Why?"

In a few seconds, the man's cool, hard fingers brushed lightly, almost imperceptibly, against the girl's delicate, warm neck, sending shivers across her snow-white skin.

The gold clasp was fastened.

It was done.

Mo Shaoshang moved slightly, walking around to stand in front of Wen Yicong. He lowered his eyes, studying her with a casual yet extremely focused gaze.

The rich green jadeite made the skin on her collarbone and chest glow softly.

"Because it suits you."

Seeming especially satisfied with how the necklace looked on her, Mo Shaoshang's mouth curved faintly. "Teacher Wen looks even more beautiful wearing it than I imagined."

Author's note: ---------------------- Mo Mo: Baby is so beautiful beautiful beautiful. ———— Random 100 red packets~